Lannie: Yes, your comment makes sense to me. I think it’s a really good point. I don’t know how to say it any better than you did, but I’m going to think about it!

As you might guess, I adore Rochester. It’s absolutely true that he’s brooding, mysterious, dangerous–a true Byronic hero. But he’s also caring and kind, when he thinks the person deserves it, and he treats Jane as an equal, and he risks his life to save his wife even though no one would blame him for not rushing back through that burning house for her and even though it’d be better for him if she died. And most importantly, and commonly overlooked, is that he wants to change. He tells Jane at one point that he wants to be a better person than he has been, and that’s part of the reason he loves her (although at the time he’s speaking hypothetically in the second person). If I may quote:

“You find in this stranger [Jane] much of the good and bright qualities which you have sought for twenty years, and never before encountered; and they are all fresh, healthy, without soil and without taint. Such society revives, regenerates: you feel better days come back–higher wishes, purer feelings; you desire to recommence your life, and to spend what remains to you of days in a way more worthy of an immortal being.”

Now, he has an extremely skewed moral compass and he goes about trying to obtain Jane in a highly objectionable manner, what with the lying and the trying to trick her into bigamy, but that passage has always redeemed him in my eyes just enough for me to continue adoring him. And as someone else has partially pointed out, her leaving and his subsequent injury humbles him, smooths out those last rough spots, until in the end he’s truly worth of her. And he does it without beating his head on a tree, dying for love, or rakishly abandoning his lover.

Now, as to him vs. Darcy, I would agree that in the middle of the book, Rochester is not the kind of man you’d take home to meet your parents . . . but then, neither is Darcy, as he would probably sneer at them unless they were rich and very well behaved. Both characters go through a change, from flawed and fallible at the beginning of the story to more of the hero we want. Rochester’s is a much more dramatic change, but I feel that in the end he’s a man that a girl could truly trust and be happy with. My point? After that long ramble, I suppose my point is that Rochester is favorite, but Darcy is also favorite. And Wentworth. And Thornton. Can I have four favorites?

Well, then clearly you need to read Eclipse. Heh. Heeee. Sorry. I’m just mystified how someone couldn’t be taken by the man willing to smash his head into a tree as the only way to express his love.

My question to Bronte is: why does passion have to be so darn scary? And unhealthy?

It’s fascinating though – comparing Darcy and Rochester. They have more in common than one would think: Rochester could certainly be considered a redevelopment of Mr. Darcy’s character, infused with some of that passion which Charlotte accused Jane of lacking.

Not sure what to think about the whole “bad boy” attraction business. I’m generally not into the bad boys. I want nice, super smart, and sexy in one thoughtful package.

Re: Mr. Darcy…he’s not romantic, per se, but he’s awesome.

Mrs. Light – Now, I have never gotten the appeal of Heathcliff, period, but I also deeply dislike Wuthering Heights. I’ve tried, and it just doesn’t stick for me. They’re all just SO ANNOYING.

ibmiller – Hee, “manipulative sociopathic tosser.” I do maintain that their scene in the garden at night is pretty freakin’ romantic, but there is the whole matter of his scheming, lying, etc.

Sandra – Kate Bush did a song about Wuthering Heights? I do not know what to think about this. Hmmm.

Mrs. F – I think this is my problem. My sense of romance has so little to do with darkness OR danger that I don’t totally see the appeal of the bad boy–I like the idea of Darcy as romantic (but, again, not Romantic–I think Jane would have rolled her eyes mightily at them) because his appeal is in his deeply upstanding character. THAT, I can get behind.